


Distractionary Techniques

by andveryginger



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Drastic Measures by Keldae, Coitus Interruptus, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Kaliyo Being the Snarky Bitch That She Is, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andveryginger/pseuds/andveryginger
Summary: Turns out blowing off a little post-op steam is difficult on a ship full of companions.





	Distractionary Techniques

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Keldae -- “Kisses Meant To Distract The Other Person From Whatever They Were Intently Doing.” The result is the first Drastic Measures AU!fic starring the alternate versions of Mairen and Reanden. In this 'verse, Mairen remained a Green Jedi, going to work with Ardun Kothe, and Reanden is still... well, Reanden, with a dash more angst and alcohol.
> 
> Force help us. ::headdesk::
> 
> Takes place sometime later in the DM-verse, after settling Odessen. Details are sketchy ‘cause most of this part of the story is still in note form – not even an outline yet…
> 
> Posted sans beta.

Seated in the pilot’s seat, Reanden Taerich gripped the yoke with one hand, the other resting impatiently on the hyperdrive lever. Laser blasts from the Zakuulan scout ships swarming him pounded against the shields, rocking the contents of the _Phantom_ -class vessel as the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up with his own maneuvers. “SCORPIO, I could really use those calculations right about now,” he exclaimed, shifting a side-long glance toward the rust bucket beside him.

The droid, seated in the co-pilot seat of the sleek vessel, appeared as unimpressed as ever. “Hyperspace calculations are exacting at the best of times, Agent,” she replied. “Attempting to compensate for our continual change of course only amplifies the difficulty.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be more _accommodating_ ,” Taerich said with a snort. That was about as close as she ever came to complaining about his piloting. “Take much longer to compensate, though, and it’s gonna cease to be a problem!”

There was a shift in the wide, orange photoreceptors, lenses rotating and internal circuits blinking to blue for a fraction of a second. “Calculations complete. You may engage hyperdrive when ready.”

If there was a note of smug satisfaction in her voice, it was clearly his imagination. With a nudge of his wrist, Reanden shoved the lever into the forward position. He felt his stomach drop to his knees and quickly rebound in the heartbeat it took for the sublight engines to engage. He watched through the transparisteel as light itself stretched around them before they blinked into the space between.

Heaving a sigh of relief, the former Imperial spy leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hands over his face. Adrenaline coursed through his system, making his limbs hum and his extremities tingle. It was a strange feeling, one he had not felt in quite some time. The constant infusion of alcohol had apparently kept at bay over the past few years. He pushed himself to his feet, unable to remain seated, needing to move – to walk – to pace. “Keep us on course for Duros. If we can punch out of hyperspace behind the moons, it should buy us enough time to make the next jump,” he said.

SCORPIO seemed to consider this a moment, then nodded. “Very well,” she replied. Her hands gripped the flight yoke, metallic plating clattering quietly against the hardware as she did so. “You will be notified as we approach our next vector.”

“Fine.” With a nod, Reanden turned and stalked down the passageway and into the main compartment. To his left, he could see Lokin puttering around the small medical lab, picking up a datapad from his desk as Raina Temple eased herself up onto the bed. She had suffered a few minor injuries in the course of the op, so he was glad to see them being tended.

Movement in his peripheral – a flutter of red and green – shifted his attention to his right. Recognition was instant: Mairen. He watched as the Green Jedi moved about the conference room, taking position near the computer terminal. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath, rolling her head and shoulders. There was slight movement to her lips as she murmured to herself, tapping commands into the keyboard.

Memories flooded him: a darkened room, echoing with soft sighs and gasps; her chest rising and falling against his; the way she met his need with an assertive desire of her own. Blood surged to his lower extremities, fuelled, no doubt, by the adrenaline. A wry grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. _That’s_ one _way to blow off a little steam,_ he thought. He moved toward the conference room, the grin widening.

For her part, Mairen glanced up from the console as he entered. “That was some piloting,” she said. She continued working on her data input. “Though maybe you should see about getting some seat belts installed somewhere other than the cockpit.”

“I’ll talk to Hylo about requisitioning the parts when we get back to Odessen,” he replied with a chuckle. Stepping up behind her, he placed on hand on her hip, the other brushing aside the long, wavy locks of red hair. He nuzzled her neck before placing a kiss just below her ear. “I’d hate for you to be bruised… in transit…”

Her breath caught, her fingers stilling over the keys. “Now isn’t the time for this,” she whispered. “There’s reports to be done…”

Reanden felt himself twitch at the breathy nature of her voice, allowed his hand to trace over her as it came to rest on the crest of her hip. His fingers tightened as his own hips canted toward her. She bit back a soft moan. “Can’t tell me you don’t want to work off a little of this excess energy,” he murmured into her skin.

“I’d like nothing more,” she replied. Her hands gripped at the console. “But your crew –”

“…Is busy.”

He nipped at her earlobe and her hips rolled involuntarily against him, surprising him with her quick response. It seemed she _was_ quite keyed up. “ _Force,_ Reanden,” she hissed. She whirled on him, arms sliding around his neck as her mouth claimed his. Two fingers waved toward the door, and the durasteel plating slid closed. “This is such a bad idea.”

“Probably,” he answered. He executed a reverse, nudging her backward until she bumped up against the conference table. She eased herself up onto it with no hesitation. Stepping in between her parted legs, his hands fisted in her lower robes, rucking them up. His hands then found the bare skin of her thighs as her fingers fumbled over the latch on his belt.

“Gotta say I’m impressed, old timer! Wouldn’t think you could get it up any more… or is that what the Jedi is for?”

Mairen’s hands froze over his waist, eyes widening as they looked first to one another, then to the door. Kaliyo Djannis stood just inside the room, arms folded as she leaned against the bulkhead. A knowing smirk played across her pale features.

Burying her face in his shoulder, Mairen slipped her hands up to his chest, curling into his lapels as he levelled a steely glare at his associate. His hip sheath was out of reach, but there were a few smaller throwing knives concealed just along the side seams of his jacket. _A well-placed warning toss might just do the trick,_ he thought. “Kaliyo…”

“Fairly unconventional use of the Force, if you think about it,” the Rattataki continued. “Or is it? What with that whole ‘no attachments’ thing, I bet you guys get lots of practice.”

Reanden felt rage – cold, unadulterated rage spike deep within him, his gaze hardening. He couldn’t use the knife now – couldn’t – because he wouldn’t miss. He would kill her. Then he felt warmth radiating through him. Looking down, he saw Mairen, looking up at him with cautious eyes, her palm soft against his evening stubble. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. He knew the glint in his eyes had mellowed, but there was an unmistakable edge remaining in his voice. “ _Out. Now._ ”

It was the first time he had ever seen Kaliyo flinch away from him, her already white skin paling further beneath the tattoos. She swallowed as she straightened, exiting the room silently. The door slipped closed again behind her.

Silence hung heavily in the room for a long moment after her departure. It was Mairen who spoke first. “Are you all right?” she asked. Her gaze traced his features with concern… and a tenderness he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.

He nodded, squeezing her hand. “I will be.” If his voice was a bit rough, surely it was the result of their earlier activities and not the jumble of emotions currently lodged in his chest. Should he have been willing to stand up for Mairen? Yes. That viciously? Probably not. Even now, the strength of his response surprised him. There would be fences to mend with Kaliyo later… but she would not make the same mistake again.

Her thumb traced the crease between his brows, a soft smile playing over her features. “Thank you.” There was a weightiness to her voice, a double meaning that he could not miss. She knew – could sense, perhaps – his confusion.

“You’re welcome.” Reanden cradled her head in his hands, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then her pink, slightly swollen lips. As he began to draw back, she pulled him back in, deepening the kiss into something languid and tender, with building intensity. The smile that curved his lips echoed hers when the kiss ended. “ _Quite_ welcome.”

An impish gleam sparked her eyes, paired with a lopsided grin. “Seems we still have a bit of… adrenaline to deal with. Meet me in the ‘fresher in ten minutes?”

“Awfully small space,” he replied with a chuckle.

Mairen dropped a kiss of her own just under his jawline. “All the more reason to… stay close.”

The seductive note in her voice sent a charge through him and he felt his interest, diminished considerably by the interruption, flickering to life again. His hands flexed over the crest of her hips as he exhaled. He looked up at her. “Ten minutes.”

She planted a kiss on his nose, slipping off the table, then toward the door without another look back. His attention was drawn to the waves of red hair; the curve of her waist; the sway of her hips. He sighed as the door closed behind her, rubbing his hands over his face. His history – _their_ history – had the potential to make such an entanglement, casual as it may be, incredibly complicated. But damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy this while it lasted.


End file.
